Voice of Hearts
by Blueasice24
Summary: Post Book 4. Pretend with me that, rather then become queen of the elves, Arya decided to leave with Eragon. Why is it that Eragon's fortune was so set on him sailing away and never returning? What is the one thing that could bring Arya to her knees and keep her there for twenty years? And why are dead men leaving eggs in the forest?
1. Twenty Years Passed

**I've been tossing the idea around in my head for awhile of writing what would have been the sequel for VoR. That might sound strange, writing the sequel when the first one wasn't fully finished, but this particular plot makes it okay. Readers only need to know that Arya never became queen and instead sailed off with Eragon, and Eragon (and my OC) managed to convince Murtagh that he didn't disappear for who knows how long. My OC's from the first book are not the main POV's, but they do show up (mainly in the beginning), so it's not really needed that you read VoR unless you're curious about my OC's or my take on the ExA ending on Inheritance. **

**All in all, it's a take on the Post Book 4 world - about 21 years. And, to avoid me disappearing or losing faith in this story, I'm going to write most to all of it before I begin really posting. For the sake of a test, however, I'd like to show you the beginning.**

Eragon crawled into bed late in the night.

His lower back ached from sitting hunched in a chair studying reports and writing responses. By the time he'd finished, his forefinger and thumb refused to grasp the quill correctly. Finally, he'd decided to call it done for the day.

Careful not to wake his mate, Eragon slid underneath the covers and exhaled when the pillow embraced his head. He closed his eyes to sleep when the body next to him rolled into his side and gripped his arm. "Eragon? How late is it?"

"My apologies, dear Arya, if I woke you." Eragon burred his arm under her body and tugged her nearer. "The stars are settled in the sky, and the moon is bright," he said.

Arya sighed. "This is week three that you have come to bed so late. You need rest, Eragon."

At the mention of the past few weeks, he curled his other arm around her and kissed her forehead. "I don't mean to worry you. My responsibilities have been thick and piled high."

"Something is bothering you, and it isn't the students." Arya's perception at his distress had him hiding his face in her hair. He didn't want her to be hurt again, didn't want to remind her. Saphira he could tell. He needn't worry of her sinking into depression.

"Let us sleep," Eragon said and tucked her head in the crook of his neck. "You, as well, have not been prioritizing your rest."

"I would like to talk."

"How was your day, then?" He felt her warm breath on his skin, making it tingle and pop. He missed her.

Arya conceded to his inquiry and listed off her accomplishments for the day. Her soft voice soothed him, and he imagined, as he often did, a world where he heard her happier voice each and every day rather than here or there. Even now, he could detect the emptiness in her tone that had crept in over the last twenty years.

"I think I might choose a student to apprentice," she said near the end of her narration.

Eragon grinned. "Really? That would be great. Have you any in mind?"

She mentioned every year the desire to train an apprentice. Every year, Eragon encouraged her. But, every year, she ultimately decided to wait.

"I thought perhaps Daman Cadensson," she mused. "I trained his father, after all."

Eragon winced. "That is a wonderful choice, but you will have to wait a few months for him to return to the island."

Arya shifted in his arms until she was propped up on her elbows and looking down at him. "He's left?"

"I approved his appeal to visit his home a month ago. He left this morning."

The frown that creased Arya's face made Eragon wish it wasn't so. She nodded, quick to accept the circumstances, and laid back down. "It is only right that he should visit his family. Perhaps he'll tell us of his home when he returns?"

Eragon grimaced hearing that numb edge to her voice. He cupped her cheek and coaxed her face up to his. "Arya, how are you faring?"

She blinked and shrugged. "As well as I ought to be."

"You are still so sad," he said and then swallowed, daring to resurrect the topic. "It's been twenty years since we've–"

"I know it has." Arya pushed away from him and leaned back on her forearms. Fire alighted her eyes. "Not a day goes by that I don't think of it. I'm not human, Eragon. I don't forget those kinds of things."

Eragon reached for her but she shoved his hands away. "Please, Arya, I haven't forgotten either. You know I haven't. But it breaks me to see you so," he gulped, "empty."

Liquid brimmed her eyes, and she blinked it away. "I don't know how, Eragon. I fear even your love is not enough to pull me out of this pit of despair. I try and try, but I just can't move." Her fingers tangled into her long tresses and yanked. She growled with frustration, and sticky tears squeezed out of her angled eyes.

Eragon sat up and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her temple, willing his energy to fill her. She cried into his chest, the first sign of true emotion she'd shown in the last year. "It told you once I would follow you to the ends of the world, and I am. I told you once I would build a palace for you with nothing but my bare hands, and I have. Now I tell you that I will stop at nothing until the cracks in your heart are mended and all you feel is joy."

"Eragon," she said with a shudder, as if he'd said her true name. He said her old one now, the one that had been true twenty years ago, as she said his. He locked his arms tight around her in response and kissed her.

As he tasted her lips and pressed the tips of his fingers into her soft flesh, Arya struggled in his grip. She managed to shake his face from hers and covered his mouth with her hands. "I'm sorry," she blurted and ducked her head.

Eragon sighed and left it at that. He guided them down where she twisted in his arms and let his chest warm her back. With one last kiss to her hair, Eragon murmured he loved her and drifted into his walking dreams.

**A/N: So... anything perk your interest? **


	2. Amaryllis

"He returns today!"

Amaryllis fought the frown that wanted to mar her young face. She wanted to be excited – willed herself to be – but one nasty thought nested in the forefront of her brain, reminding her always of what she'd rather forget.

_You are not a part of this family._

It bothered her, even six months since she learned of it. It felt as if her childhood had been a lie. And she never expected it coming, either. Perhaps if it made a little sense, she could accept the fact that her true parents were not the ones she lived with.

Opal, the youngest girl in the family, bounced around the house with astounding energy, face flushed and blonde hair flying out of her bun. "I've heard so much about him; my memories are so fuzzy. Is his hair still black? Does he remember me?" She jumped on Amaryllis's back. "Do you think he remembers me?"

Amaryllis shook her off and shot her an irritated look. "He's been gone eleven years. I'd be quite surprised if he recalls even me."

"Do not say such things," Opal chided.

Amaryllis sighed and turned back to her baking. Gwendolyn her guardian (it was hard to call her mother after finding out it was not true) had asked that she'd bake bread for the homecoming of their eldest son Daman. The Dragon Riders were allowing him to visit his home, and it set the entire town abuzz.

Though the children knew little about the in-depth story of their parents, they knew somehow they'd become wealthy. Rather than live in the cities, however, their father had purchased land and a home that they built during the reconstruction of the Empire. It was a modest size and well furnished, and the girls wore pretty dresses in town. They lived a comfortable life.

"Chin up, Ami." Opal skipped down the hall as she giggled.

Amaryllis tensed.

She kneaded the soft, sticky bread down beneath her knuckles, forcing her extra energy into working it just right. Her hands and arms were splotched with flour. She hoped she kept all of the white stuff out of her hair. The color would stick out against the black strands.

Behind her, she heard the familiar ting of a small bell. It meant her guardian Gwendolyn was in need of assistance. Pausing her work, she glanced over her shoulder. The woman of the house stood with perfect poise and a gentle smile. She held her bell between two dainty fingers. With her free hand, she began to motion and make gestures and then pointed outside.

"Water from the well?" Amaryllis assumed. They had a decent set of simple motions and waves, almost like their own language, with which they were able to communicate. Gwendolyn was mute and had been for several years. Amaryllis heard from Caden once that Gwendolyn had been able to speak before but lost it in a frightening experience.

Fighting off her poor attitude, Amaryllis went to fetch water from their well. She hated that she'd yet to shed the sense of betrayal she wore every time she looked at the woman she had called mother. _She loves me; I know it_. But the feeling refused to fade away.

Outside, the cool morning sun stretched soft light across the property. Dew wet the lawn, and Amaryllis felt the damp water seep through her soft shoes as she carried the bucket to the well stationed at the backside of the house. The edges of the Spine stood several feet ahead, and, while she'd heard all the strange stories regarding it, Amaryllis felt not fear in a mass land of trees. She assumed only stupid people let the forest overtake them.

"Good morning little squirrel," she said, setting the bucket on the rim of the well. The small, furry creature skittered along the brick and jumped off into the grass. Then it disappeared into the trees. Amaryllis sighed.

As she retrieved the water, she began to hum a melody she'd learned from Gwendolyn. Music had a way of soothing her nerves. She could image herself in the midst of a beautiful forest, one where the bark of the trees were lighter and the shrubbery split apart to welcome you rather than hinder you.

Suddenly, the grass shifted, the branches creaked. Something moaned in great despair.

Her breath stilled, and Amaryllis glanced up from the well. What she saw had trouble processing through her mind. A hunched form was crouched to the ground as if in pain. The sunlight didn't reach it, the identity hidden with shadows. It moaned again, a little louder, and she thought she heard it say, "Help me."

Abandoning the well, Amaryllis approached the edge of the Spine. The nearer she came to the form, the deeper into the forest it receded. But its pleas grew louder, and its pain seemed to strike her heart. Without thinking on it, she ran into the trees.

She shuffled at a decent speed through the low bushes and wide branches despite how her flouncy skirts fattened her legs. On and off, she wondered why she was following the dark figure. It seemed to dance now between the trees, faster than she could keep up with. But, whenever she decided to quit and turn back, adrenaline shot through her veins, and she'd double her speed, running like she was being chased.

A branch stabbed the fabric of her dress and wrenched it back. Amaryllis tripped over a tree root and tumbled through the brush into a small clearing. She tasted wet grass and spat it out as she propped herself up on her elbows.

"Hello?" she called out. Looking around , she recognized the gap in the forest as a spot from her childhood where she and Opal played imaginative games. She did not remember, however, the distinct rotten smell. As she swept across the middle, she spotted a pink object on the ground, and, a few feet behind it, the legs of a collapsed body.

Amaryllis squinted her eyes at the object and recognized it as an egg. A dragon egg? It had the same size and shape as they were described to be. She skirted around it, however, towards the body. From it came the nasty stench, and Amaryllis had to cover her mouth to bare the smell. Without needing to touch the mutilated flesh, she knew the person was dead.

_Was he carrying that egg?_ she wondered, turning back to the object. Curiosity overpowered her sense of concern, and she picked it up. The shell was pink with white veins sprawled out like spider webs. From every description she heard, this was a dragon egg. Except, the smooth casing was marred by a fat streak of black that felt gravely under her fingers. Diseased.

Whatever its purpose in being the possession of a dead man, Amaryllis knew it needed to be with the egg carriers. She worried for a moment that they might accuse her of trying to steal the egg, but then figured she had the best defense of all: she was human.

**So, for once in my life, I'm getting the plot started rather fast. Mostly because nothing all that exciting happens before this. Confused yet? The only part I really had trouble with in this was the end. I can't do chase scenes still. **

**Also, they don't live in Carvahall. They live in another town that's close by that was built alongside Carvahall. **

**Please do review :-) **


	3. Daman the Dragon Rider

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews! It's always nice to hear what people have to say. I can learn a lot from it. **

**The chapters aren't going to be insanely long at the moment. I am finding this beginning part of the story difficult to write as much of the conflict has yet to come into play. **

**Do read and enjoy!**

Amaryllis managed to sneak the egg into the house. Her little side adventure had taken no time at all, and so she hid the treasure first behind the well and carried a bucket of water into the house. Gwendolyn rewarded her with a frown and set the pale beside the sink. Then Amaryllis went back out, retrieved the egg, and snuck it into her room where she covered it with her pillow.

The rest of her morning crawled at snail's pace, filled with baking and preparing a fit meal for a Dragon Rider. Opal provided most of the chatter in the kitchen. Amaryllis was too tense to add much, and, though Gwendolyn had no voice, she responded with a variety of hand gestures and expressions, sometimes banging the cooking utensils against the fire place mantel.

Caden returned home past the noon hour. The sounds of the door opening and closing made Opal shriek, but she frowned when it saw it was just her father.

"What smells so lovely?" he asked.

"Amaryllis baked sweet bread," said Opal, the smile returning to her face. "And Mother and I are cooking the turkey with vegetables."

Caden sauntered into the kitchen space, which spilled into the main room with the fireplace. A heavy, black pot hung on thick prongs over the hot fire. "What is this?"

"A forest stew," replied Amaryllis. "A meatless option, just as you suggested, should Daman have decided to cut animal life from his diet."

"Good gracious." Caden chuckled and approached his wife. "The three most talented woman in all of Alagaesia living right under my roof." He hooked his arm around Gwendolyn's waist and kissed her face. "I am lucky indeed."

Gwendolyn's chest vibrated with laughter, though no sound escaped her. Amaryllis dropped her eyes and stared at the loaves of bread instead. She couldn't help but peek at her peripheral vision, however. Her guardians communicated in the most enchanting way. Often, they were caught staring into their eyes as if having an entire solid conversation in a language only they knew. It would end with Caden chuckling and saying something aloud that made no contextual sense.

"Father, do you think –" Opal was cut off by a deafening roar over head. She squealed, the sound silent in comparison, and raced out the front door.

Caden laughed, and the rest of the family followed after. When Amaryllis ducked outside, she caught a glimpse of a beautiful dragon flipping and spinning in the air. She had trouble distinguishing its scale color, figuring it to be dark blue green that almost looked black. The beast soared near the tips of the trees and angled toward the road. It was so huge, Amaryllis wondered if they had room enough for it to land.

Buffeting gusts of wind with its wide wings, the women had to grab hold of their hair to keep it from flying out of their pins. It landed with a deafening thud, and the ground trembled in its presence. It blinked it large eyes at their little family and snorted a plume of gray smoke. Amaryllis felt a surge of powerful fear rush through her. In front of her, Opal collapsed to her knees.

They waited a few moments, unable to see much beyond the enormous beast. It cleared over their house, the trees, and, Amaryllis decided, the Carvahall citadel. Under the bright light of the sun, she could tell the scales were blue-green, and they gave off dancing rays of color like prisms.

Finally, they saw a body climb down from the dragon's leg. He ran with great speed and grace, closing the gap within mere moments. He slid to a stop before Opal and helped her to her feet. "Dear little sister," he said, "You have grown into such a beautiful young woman."

Opal cried out with joy and leapt in his arms.

Amaryllis remembered only so much of Daman from her memories. He had enjoyed teasing her as a child, stealing her dolls and hiding them up in the trees. Every mess she cleaned up, he disorganized. Mischief had been his favorite companion. How much of that had changed?

He had Gwendolyn's midnight black locks, but they fell around his head like his father's, giving it a scruffy, boyish look. When he set Opal down, he reached for his parents and embraced them tight. They murmured greetings in such a way that made Amaryllis's chest tighten. Did he know they were not truly brother and sister? Now more than ever, she felt disjointed from the family.

"Amaryllis," he said when he managed to untangle himself from his mother. Vibrant green eyes - just like her own – surveyed her entire being, comparing and contrasting this new young woman with the little girl he once teased. She hugged him without prompting, relaxing in the feel of his strong arms.

The first minutes of joyful reunion now behind them, Daman casted his arm out towards his companion of the skies. "Everyone, this is my bonded partner, the Conqueror of Winds, the Slayer of Storms, Braxten."

The dragon snorted again, as if scoffing. He stretched out his long neck till he could rest his head only a few feet from our family. _It is an honor to meet Daman's nest mates. He has missed you greatly._ Braxten's voice had a deep timbre to it, one that made Amaryllis shudder. He blinked and retreated his head.

"Rax is a gem," said Daman. "He's saved my skin more times than I care to count."

His mother was unable to resist the urge to embrace him once more, and he caught her with strong arms. "I've missed you, too, Mother."

* * *

They found themselves swept up in the affairs of supper that evening, Daman sitting between Amaryllis and Caden at the table. He complimented them on their food selections and partook of both the turkey and the stew. When Opal asked why he was alright eating the meat, he said, "Master Eragon does not force us to live exactly as he deems necessary, for he feels that was one of the greatest crimes of the dead King – taking away people's abilities to choose – and so if we decide to continue eating meat, we are allowed that right. And I feel it is the natural way of things that man eats the beast, so I eat it."

"What is the island like? How far out into the sea is it?" questioned Caden.

Daman chewed as he contemplated his response. "Nydia has an enchanting beauty that is unmatched by anything I have ever seen. We Riders built our main city at the base of the largest mountain, which, in fact, has an entire natural cave system and an underground lake founded by Master when he first arrived. A dense, mossy forest lays next to our city, and it stretches out most of the land mass. We get a lot of rain, as well, and have produced new varieties of food plants. To get there takes several days on dragon back, and it is only achievable due to the smaller islands in between that allow the dragons to rest. Braxten is an excellent flyer. His endurance is remarkable."

As he described the wonders of Nydia to the eager listeners, Amaryllis remembered the egg hidden under her pillow. Who else better to give it to than a Dragon Rider? Daman would know how to return the egg to the egg carriers, and he'd certainly want to know how she came about it. But she pushed the matter aside for the morrow, wanting to bask in the glow of his homecoming.

"The island, it is almost as if it is alive," Daman said. "Living there feeds your soul with powerful energy. The majesty of it leaves you in awe." Then he chuckled. "We veterans tease the newer riders when they first arrive, for they are unable to move or speak much. They are struck with heavy awe."

Opal frowned. She glanced down at her near-empty plate and picked at her slice of sweet bread. "It sounds so amazing. Why would you want to ever leave it?"

"I have no little sister to pester," he replied, quite serious. When Opal looked up in surprise, he winked. "It is a lovely place indeed, and I cannot help missing it. But it was a great sacrifice leaving you as well. I'm afraid homesickness ailed me constantly for the first five years." He tilted his head towards his mother then, who sat at the end of the table. "They fare well as far as I know," he said.

Dragon Riders had the ability to read minds, didn't they? Amaryllis tried to recount all the things Caden explained to them when they were younger when Daman initially left. So he must be reading Gwendolyn's mind.

Daman continued answering the unspoken questions. "I don't know them on that personal of a level."

"Your Masters?" Caden clarified.

Daman nodded. "I've had a few encounters with them, mostly Master Eragon, in which he mentioned a stray thing or two about mother and you. But nothing beyond that."

"Does Master Eragon do most of the teaching? I imagine Arya would want to instruct students as well."

Daman explained with a shrug that Eragon headed most of their lessons and sometimes one of the old elves would take over. It was rare that Arya taught them. "And she is not gentle." He winced at an unpleasant memory.

Amaryllis watched as Caden frowned, his head dipping in a slow nodding motion, as if something troubled him. But then Daman perked up and steered the conversation to their own lives. He hated missing out on so much with them.

"Amaryllis has begun to attract suitors," said Opal with a mischief grin.

Daman rose a curious brow at the young woman next to him . "Perhaps they do not know your older brother is a fierce dragon rider?" he smirked.

Her face flushed, and she ducked down. "There is no need for your interference. The boys in our town are quite respectful."

"They better be," he mumbled, still smirking.

Supper ended on a happy note, and, as they cleared the plates and food, Amaryllis stole Daman away to her bedroom. "There is something I must show you."

"Not your collection of perfumes, I hope," he said.

She made a rather unladylike noise, which only doubled Daman's mirth. He pursed his lips when they entered her room and she closed the door behind them.

"Something from the forest, actually." And Amaryllis had no trouble at all throwing her pillow to the side and revealing the egg.

Daman shed his playful nature in an instant, hard, somber lines stoning his expression. "Where did you find that?"

**Please let me know what you think :-)**

**I'm only about two chapters ahead right now because I'm finding a transitional scene very difficult to write, and, since I want to stay ahead, I'm not sure how long it will be till I update another chapter. **


	4. Repeat of the Past

**The writing process is still slow going (which seems to be fine as not many eyes are on this story anyway), but I decided to put up this part since its with familiar characters. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own this series, or the characters, or the world they are in (well, I guess I kinda own Nydia). They all belong to Christopher P.**

Early in the morning, Eragon trekked up one of the smaller mountain peaks that formed Haven. He left Arya a note explaining his absence and brought nothing but a cloak with him to stave off the chilly weather. He'd made the hike so many times now that he felt no burning sensation in his muscles, as if he were walking a straight plain. And, rather than climb to the peak, he settled on a shelf near the mountain's midsection.

Twenty years…. Time had a way of slowing down when you least wanted it to. It felt like over a century had passed with the way certain events had aged him. Eragon never thought he'd come across such trauma after the victory in Uru'bean, much less Arya. It was strange the way things played out.

And yet, the past was just that – behind them. They needed to gather the strength to wade through the muck of their emotions if they were ever going to be the protectors of this world. No matter how it hurt them.

_How can I help Arya?_ he mused, pinching bits of dirt clod between his fingers. Work was usually the answer he came up with. Arya liked to be busy. It kept her distracted. But her motivation to do so had waned in the last decade. She tended to haunt the halls of the castle or else wander the various footpaths of the forest. When Firnen was not teaching a class, he would join her (at the very least join their minds).

Eragon sighed and tossed a small pebble down the cliff side. He watched it bounced and tumble until he could see it no longer and then looked out into the ubiquitous expanse of dense, packed green. It melded with the horizon, and Eragon could see the whiffs of gray clouds headed their way.

_Perhaps I should force her to take an apprentice._ Eragon winced at his word choice and amended with, _Strongly encourage._ Once, such a feat would prove impossible. The princess in Arya hated to be ordered about, even by her well-meaning mate. But this was no longer the case. It wouldn't surprise him if she acquiesced to his request simply to please him. And he didn't want that.

An idea came to his mind then, one that stung when it crossed his thoughts. _What if she visited her home?_ Would a change in scenery be enough to shake his mate from her despair? He liked the idea, seeing the land he once called home, seeing his cousin rather than hearing about him through Ismira, seeing to the protection of a treasure he hoped was hidden well enough.

As he played around with the concept, the mountain began to tremble and quake. Eragon pressed himself against the rocky wall, trying to stabilize his body that wanted to slide downhill. His heightened ears picked up the thundering roar of a rolling boulder. Eragon dared look up, and, just in time, leapt off the rock shelf as a boulder smashed the rock side. His upper torso landed on a lower jut of rock. The boulder shattered his resting place and continued down the mountain face.

Eragon placed a hand over his racing heart. An invisible band squeezed it, and he moaned in pain. His mind hummed in a low timbre, and a languid, threatening voice said to him: _You are never leaving this island._

He returned home straight after.

It had been years since hearing that voice, and Eragon needed to find Arya, see that she was safe. The last time he'd been warned, the repercussions on Arya had been unbearable.

Eragon sprinted through the city streets, heedless of those he passed. Many voices called out to him but were ignored. He tore up the short rises and falls in the land until he came up on his home. The floor entrance to the keep was the base of the largest mountain, and it was guarded by a handful of elves in light armor. They tensed at his approach, but, once they realized who it was, they stood aside.

_Saphira!_ he called out.

She answered in less than a minute. _What is it? _

_Where is Arya? I need to find Arya._ He slid on the rug in the hallway, tossing him into the wall. His mind continued to race at full speed with demands to know where his mate was.

_Calm yourself._ Saphira tried to send him waves of comfort and stamina, but Eragon had trouble receiving them. _Why do you need to find Arya? Why not contact her with your mind?_

Panic made it hard to think with logic. Eragon's heart was fighting like a wild animal, thrusting itself against the ribs. _Arya, where are you! _Eragon threw out his mind wherever he could go. In the background, several people cried out in pain.

_There's no need to ram yourself against my defenses_, he heard her scold. _I am here in my study. _

A level of calmness numbed the pain in his chest at the sound of her internal voice. _I need to see you. Now._

_Here I shall wait._

_I'll be there._

Eragon rose from where he fell and sprinted up the many levels of the keep. He was spared any awkward encounters with most of his students, as they were at the outskirts of the city sparring amongst themselves until he arrived to teach. He debated contacting Blodgharm and asking that he take over for the day but pushed the thought aside until after he'd seen Arya.

Her personal study was near the top floor. While it might have been easier to fly there rather than climb each and every level on fast foot, Eragon's desperation lead him to taking the first route that came to mind, and so he ran. With his enhanced speed and endurance, it took him ten minutes to arrive at her door.

"Arya," he said aloud, bursting into the study and finding her whole and well at her desk.

She glared at him. "As you can see, I am alright and in one piece."

Eragon teetered to her feet and collapsed onto his knees. Suddenly, his vision misted and swayed. "Arya…."

"Did you wear yourself out running here?" she asked, and though her words hinted at annoyance, her tone tilted with worry.

It felt as if his head had grown the weight of five sizes. He tried to relieve it by laying it in Arya's lap. Her voice continued to prod him, but his ears were thick with fog, and he could only make out a few words.

_I'm… I… Nydia…._ Eragon sighed as a sudden darkness enveloped him.

**Sorry it's so short. That's not my usual style. There's just not a ton for me to show in the Eragon POV's since I'm avoiding revealing what the heck is going on so early. The ending of this was a little persnickety, though. Kept changing on me. **

**Please let me know your thoughts :-) Let's me know to put more priority on this project (it's right now second to another long story for a different fandom). **


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